stolen life-breath from windy dreams blows wire-shorted brains from the sleepy wagging headof the locomotive corpse that I have become;carrion for scraping steam-birds and social crustaceans.

the spring torn from the sex handle dangles shamelessly,but the wanton coals still glow in the darkness playfully.there is a metal-on-metal giggle that echoes sadistically,and this gut-spasm awkward moment feels like home.